The Summer Dance
by TheSecretAdmirer
Summary: Legolas falls in love with a woman not knowing she is a whore. How will he react when he discovers the truth? Based loosely on Tess of The D'urbervilles. Lego/OFC
1. If Only, If Only

a/n Okay, as some of you may know, this is my second attempt at this general plotline, though much of it has been changed. I realize that this chapter is very long and dense, but PLEASE try to bear with it! I am really excited about this project, so please review and let me know what you think! Now I am okay with flames, but please, if you are a Tolkien aficionado, do not comment and point of every single minute error, copious though they may be. I am trying to be true to the essence of the Tolkien World, but this IS fanfiction. Just please keep that in mind. Thank you and I already love you all immensely. Cara'ch, Ariadne

**Chapter 1, If Only, If Only**

If only Miserene was the kind of girl who always listened to her mother, she wouldn't be where she was right now. She reached out and touched the sooty pane of glass in front her, letting her eyes wander past it and onto the water of the lake and forest beyond it. If only she had listened to her mother, she would not be here in Lake Town, but back in Gondor with her family. If only she had listened to her mother, she wouldn't be treated as she was. If only she had listened to her mother…she wouldn't be a whore.

"Miserene."

Miserene turned to find Arobelleson leaning in the jamb of the door, his obsidian eyes wolfishly drinking her in. It had been two years since Aro had tricked an innocent Miserene away from her family in order to work the streets for him, but he still looked at her like some kind of new prize. She bowed her head and waited for him to address her again, which he did after several long seconds.

"You ready, girl? I've got a couple friends down there waiting for you."

"Yes," she murmured, smoothing her small hands against the slinky emerald gown.

"Oy," he snapped as she attempted t to brush past him. She turned obediently to look at him. He took a predatory step towards her, and she felt the muscles in her shoulders tense as she was swallowed by his broad shadow. His towering height allowed him to peer arrogantly down his nose as he spoke.

"You haven't been doing so well these last few weeks, my pet," He said, folding his bruising arms across his chest. "After you finish with those gentlemen, I want you out on the street. At three more, you hear?"

She grit her teeth, the flash on an older, more spirited Miserene lighting her fair face.

"I have hardly slept in days, Aro. I need rest"

He smiled, but it seemed more of a feral display than a friendly gesture. He took another step forward, reaching out to twirl a spiraled lock of scarlet hair around his finger.

"Come now, my little _elleth-van_. I can't pull my best product off the market just because she is a little tired."  
Miserene tossed her head back and forth, murmuring her disagreement.

"I am not yours," she said defiantly, planting her feet to show her resistance, "and I am not an elf."

"Well, you may not be, but your grandmother was, and you look just like her. My clients pay big money for that."

She dropped her head so he couldn't see her roll her eyes. He did, though, and he twisted her arm around until she cried out in pain.

"And you _are_ mine, Miserene. Don't forget it." She struggled against his vice grip, but he firmly held on, his hold hardly affected by her tugging.

"Stop fighting me," he commanded coolly, and finally after a moment or two, she obeyed him and stilled.

"Good girl," he said, and he brought a hand up to stroke her cheek.

She tensed as the cold metal of his ring brushed her skin, but she did not try to fight him anymore. She knew it was loathsome and weak, but Miserene had to admit that despite her legitimate hatred for him, he had a strange power over her. He probably always would. After all, he had been her first love, and although it had been contrived on his part, it had been genuine on hers.

He roughly kissed her, his hot mouth pushing and biting with a harsh vehemence. Her lips moved feebly with his, but she had trained her mind to flee her body during times like this. Her soul slipped from the cage of her chest like a wraith, and ghostly though she was in those fleeting moments, she at least a little bit free.

Finally, his lips relented, but he did not immediately release her. He grabbed her chin and his glossy dark eyes bored into hers.

"_Don't_ disappoint me tonight, Miserene."

She assented without a sound and slipped from the room before he could touch her again.

†††

Miserene pulled the ragged edges of her shawl around both shoulders in a lame attempt to fend off the bleak wind dragging off the water. Her eyes burned from exhaustion but she ignored the sting, afraid to shut them and miss the gaze of a potential customer. She only needed one more client tonight, then she could go back to The Drunken Bowman and rest. Perhaps Aro would even give her tomorrow night off. …

Unfortunately, it was still early in the night, and many of the men were still busy drinking and gambling. For most of them, it would be hours before they were pissed enough to go looking for a girl. Miserene had gotten lucky with her first two as they were friends and simply taken their turns one after another, but she was afraid that good fortune was spent. She readjusted her shawl again and settled in for a long wait.

As she stood shifting restlessly from foot to foot, her mind wandered back into memories of her childhood. She had relived the first fifteen years of her mind a thousand times since she had left home. She found herself wandering through the halls of her parent's home in Osgiliath, playing with her younger siblings and stealing slices of sweet bread when her mother wasn't looking.

Miserene bit her lip, ignoring the intensified burning in her eyes as she thought of her parents. She had been very close with them growing up, and despite their occasional strictness, they had bestowed on her a nearly-perfect childhood. They treated all of their children with great respect, and had tried to instill in her from an early age that when they forbade her from doing something, it was only for her protection. However, Miserene was extraordinarily curious and passionate, and when she came across something she didn't fully understand, she was often overcome with an irresistible urge to explore it, no matter the cost.

Once, when she was no older than nine or ten, she'd snuck out to investigate a fox den in the gutter near the main plaza. On accident, she had frightened one of the vixens, and the creature had reacted by taking a swipe at Miserene. That night Miserene had been afraid to go home and tell her father what had happened, assuming he would yell and punish her for going to a place that had been expressly forbidden. However, when she finally arrived home with wet cheeks and bloody clothes, he father had simply held her. The next morning, he said nothing of the event, and Miserene promised herself that she would never disobey her parents again.

For years, Miserene religiously obeyed her promise, learning to curb her seemingly boundless curiosity when necessary. However, when, she met Arobellason, all her diligence had been permanently undone.

He had arrived in Osgiliath like a whirling blaze of brilliance and romance, and Miserene had instantly been taken in by him. He came under the guise of a young traveler, innocently seeking lodging at Miserene's parent's home. All the inns in town were full, he had explained, and it would only be for a couple of days. How much did they wish to charge him? He would be perfectly willing to pay them a competitive price… Something about him made them uneasy, but because they needed money, and because they could not pinpoint exactly why they disliked him, they agreed he could stay, only for a day or so. After that, he would be on his own. Miserene's mother Edessa had been wary of allowing the stranger near the children, but her husband assured her it would be alright.

"One meal, maybe two," He'd said, taking his wife's hand. "One or two meals are all the contact he need have with them. What harm could he do in two suppers, especially with us present?"

Hesitantly, she had agreed, and that evening Aro dined with the couple and their three children. Edessa had sat her Miserene, now fifteen, between herself and her husband, prudently hoping it would deter any hormonal impulses her daughter's beauty might awake in their visitor. It had hardly mattered, though. It had only taken one glance from Aro's glittering onyx eyes to bewitch Miserene away from her parents forever.

It was here that Miserene returned to the present, too disheartened to continue thinking about it. She could relive the past, but she could not change it. She was bound to Aro now, for better or worse. On the verge of tears, she turned her attention to a volley of new voices which had just entered the square. It was a group of three more whores, each ugly and used in their own way.

"…Every night." Miserene heard one, a leggy blonde with crooked teeth, finish. She turned her head, instantly curious.

"I've heard 'at too, yeah," A second replied. She was small and wiry, with dark, beady eyes similar to those of a rodent. "They light bonfires in the woods and dance all night long."

"You mean the elves?" the blonde asked, tossing her head excitedly as she glanced between her companions.

"Yeah," a third chirped. She tossed her long hair over shoulder and leaned into the others conspiratorily. "I heard that you can find them, if you want. I know a girl's who's gone and danced before."

"I dan't believe it!" The smaller girl cried, smashing her hands on her hips. "They wouldna let a human girl in inna dance, and not a whore neither! They hate whores, see? Think it's a crime against nature, or summin."

"Well, they must not have known she was a whore, because she told me that she danced all the night with 'em, the lot of 'em."

"But she's not an elf!" The second griped. "Why would they…"

"It's their prince," the long-haired girl explained. At this, the other three, Miserene included, perked up. Seeing she had their rapt attention, she continued gleefully, "He's just come back from some time abroad; In Gondor and Ithilien. He was one of the heroes of the Great War. But now he's come back. And he isn't like other elves, you see, because he's been companion to mortals for so long. So I suppose that's why he let her stay."

Miserene's mouth was dry and her heart sprinted as she swallowed a knot in her throat. _Was it possible_? At once, her old curiosity was renewed. Her grandmother was an elf, or so she had been told, but Miserene had never met her; she had died of a broken heart years before Miserene was born. Miserene's mother had always insisted her parents had loved each other very much, though, and would have stayed together forever if they could. Oh the stories Edessa would tell of her mother! Miserene had heard those stories over and over as a child, and she had always made it her secret wish to go and visit the elves of Mirkwood one day. Could this been her chance? Breathless, she listened on.

"Amazing," the smaller girl breathed, and the other two nodded.

"But how did she find them?" The blonde finally asked. Miserene had been wondering the same thing, and she listened intently to the reply.

"You just follow the main road into the woods like so," The girls looked as she gestured outward away from the lake and into the trees. "Then, when you read the woods, you look for the lights and go to them."

"Follow them? What, like, off the path? You could die out there if you get lost…"

"I know, but she said you won't. You just have to, I don't know, trust. That's the only way to find it is to be confident. If you hesitate, they will know you are foreign and they will put out the lights."

Miserene was enraptured, waiting for the brunette to say more. However, there was a commotion down the street, and they all looked up and watched as three drunken fools stumbled out of The Sinking Ship, a tavern down the street. The other three hustled towards the noise, but Miserene remained where she was. Even from a distance, she could she Aro standing outside the Ship, monitoring the men who came out and sending them in the direction of his girls. If she went over there, he would see her and demand she service one of the outbound men and return to The Drunken Bowman with him. She would be trapped. But if she stayed were she was, she would be free until the morning; Aro wouldn't come looking for her earnings until well after daybreak. That would give her plenty of time to go to Mirkwood and come back. She closed her eyes and exhaled. _Just follow the main road into the woods. Go to the lights. _ In one swift movement, Miserene peeled herself from the wall, turned her back on The Sinking Ship and Aro and began heading swiftly towards the dark foliage of Mirkwood.

a/n. WOW. First chapter complete! I really that was really long, but I needed to get it out of the way. Obviously, we will see our prince next chapter. Please tell me what you think! Much love, A


	2. The Bonfire

a/n. I'm Baaa-ack! Sorry for the delay, I was feeling lethargic and uninspired. But now I am inspired again. I changed this chapter (only slightly) so to placate you, I have also posted the next chapter here. Enjoy, my loves!

Much love, Ariadne

**Chapter 2: The Bonfire**

Miserene was beginning to lose hope. She had been entered the dense cover of Mirkwood over an hour earlier, and still there were little signs of the bonfires or the elves. She gave a soft huff and lifted to the hem of her cobalt gown to sit gingerly on a low stump just on the edge of the wide path. She looked dejectedly down at her lap, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in the soft fabric. She'd realized that her usual attire would seem to the elves inappropriate and highly irregular, so she'd gone to great lengths to steal this one from her room at The Drunken Bowman. According to her mother, it was the dress her grandmother had worn on her wedding day. It was also one of the few things Aro had allowed her to bring to Lake Town, but she had never worn it. It was simply too beautiful, she decided, and she was not worthy of it; her grandmother would have been ashamed to know that her wedding dress had been inherited by a whore.

After a moment or two of brooding, Miserene heard a noise that made her ears perk up. It was the quietest of sounds, barely rising above a vague murmur. Miserene realized after a moment that it was so much that she was hearing the sound as she was _feeling_ it. It had a perplexing cadence to it, like the swishing movement of water over rocks. She was instinctively drawn to the sensation, and she blind leapt off the path, allowing her instinct to guide her forward in the utter darkness. As she moved, the feeling began to swell in her chest, and the noise grew clearer in her mind's ear. It sounded like voices in song, but the voices were so clear, Miserene knew they could not be real. Miserene was so intent on following the sound that she did not the first shards of light as they touched her eyes. All of the sudden, she was face to face with a brilliant bonfire, and she had to shield her gaze from the unexpected intensity.

There, not twenty yards in front her, was a wall of red and orange flames, around which danced myriads of brilliantly dressed elves. They twirled around the fire with unmarred delight, their sweet, clear voices harmonizing with the flutes and harps to produce perfect music. Miserene's eyes flitted from figure to figure, for she was too excited to spend more than a moment looking at one elf. As she took in the many faces, she began to realize that her own facial features were not so different from theirs, and that notion pleased her. She felt happy for the first time in a long time, but she was afraid delve into the emotion lest it should fade, so she accepted it gladly and continued her evaluation. Her eyes moved back and forth across the clearing, taking in couples dancing and drinking and lounging. Eventually, he eyes found their way straight forward, and for the first time in several minutes, they came to a complete rest.

She gazed unabashedly at the prince, who sat in a throne-like chair looking away from her. He was not smiling, but he did look pleased, and he moved his long fingers in time with the music. In his left hand he held a silver goblet, and his golden hair glinted as her brought it to his lips and took a long drought. Like her, he never let his light eyes rest on one person for too long. That was, until he saw Miserene. As she was watching him, he finally looked at her, and his pale blue eyes stop to fully take her in. He immediately set down his goblet and stood so he could get a better look. This drew the others' attention, and it grew silent as they too began to study Miserene. It was a supremely uncomfortable phenomenon to be scrutinized by so many beautiful creatures at once, but Miserene did not stammer or grovel as others might have; she simply stood erect and continued to meet the gaze of the prince. After only a moment of study, the prince gave a small smile, his eyes warm and inviting.

"I know all the guests who usually dine at my table," he said, stepping around the fire, "but I do not know you face; that means you must be a visitor. Are you?"

Miserene didn't trust herself to speak, but she nodded and gave a shy smile. There was a quick, sharp hiss from the crowd, but the prince ignored it.

"I am Legolas, prince of Mirkwood, and this is my court." He gave a sweeping gesture across the assembly, and Miserene gave a polite bow. "Come then, stranger, let us get acquainted while we dance."

By this time he had reached her, and he extended his hand to her in a friendly gesture. Miserene could hear the whispers of the other elves as she took his hand. When she had, he turned to the individuals holding instruments and they began to play a slow thrilling melody that made Miserene's heart swell. She did not know the dance, so she allowed him to move her back and forth. However, after several minutes, she began to understand it, and she no longer needed him to guide her. That made him smile, and Miserene watched in amazement as the pleasure, which began at lips, quickly spread across his smooth cheeks and to his eyes.

The music stopped and Legolas clapped loudly. Others joined in, then the musicians began to play again and the dancing went on.

"Come," Legolas said, extending his hand to Miserene once more. "I wish to learn more about my guest."

He led her to an empty patch of leaves and sank down onto them, gesturing for her to do the same. He looked around at those gathered again, then turned to Miserene.

"So, you are an _edan_." There was no malice in his tone, but Miserene thought she could see a cloaked sadness in his eyes.

"Yes," Miserene said finally, "Well, mostly. My grandmother was a sunrise-elf."

" Yes, _amrun'quessir_. I can see their features in your face."

Gently, he reached out to brush the back of his hand against her cheek bone and through a piece of her copper hair. The touch was unexpected, and Miserene, who was unaccustomed to tenderness, flinched slightly, and Legolas dropped his hand and again cocked his head.

"But there is a sadness about you that is very mortal."

He closed his eyes and lifted his face to taste the air. "I can smell it on you. What is it that troubles you so?"

Miserene opened her mouth but did not immediately speak. She knew if she told him the truth, he would throw her out; the prince of the elves would certainly not allow a whore in his company. On the other hand, she felt drawn to his compassion, and she needed so badly to confide in someone. Just as she made up her mind, they were interrupted.

A lithe elf with sandy hair had approached them, and after giving Legolas a reverent bow, he'd turned his spring green eyes on Miserene.

"Lle merna salk?"

Miserene, once again embarrassed, looked unsurely at Legolas, who gave a melancholy smile before speaking.

"He is asking you if you would like to dance."

Miserene didn't move, just continued to look at him, silently asking his permission to go and silently hoping he wouldn't grant it.

Legolas was on his feet in a flash then he was helping Miserene to stand as well. He held her gaze for a moment.

"Go and enjoy the dance, edan-van." He touched his hand to his heart is the customary farewell gesture then morphed gracefully back into the crowd as Miserene watched in awe.

a/n I know this is mostly old, but in about two seconds I am going to post the new one, and you can marvel at that!


	3. Into the Fire

a/n As previously stated, I'm BAAA-AACK. Here we go: chapter 3. Things are unraveling fast now! (Jafar quote) Also, there is some semi-graphic semi-sad sexual content in this chapter. I hope you find it tasteful and not horribly offensive. Feel free to skip it if you want.

Much Love,

A

**Chapter 3: Into the Fire**

"How could you!" The elf in front of Legolas banged her small fist on the milky wood table, her azure eyes full of malice.

"Arianrhod," Legolas said in warning, silently demanding she back away and sit before he would say more.

"I am prince here, not you," he continued. "You know how I feel about the edan; they have been and will always be friends and allies of mine. If I wish to invite one or one hundred to court, that is my concern, not yours."

"What is she is a spy and brings edan warriors here?"

"Is that not why we carry bows and practice so often?" Legolas smiled, but Arian's frown only deepened.

"Are you jealous of her?"

"I would never be jealous of her," she said with a toss of her silky black hair. "She could never be as beautiful as me; she is mortal."

"That's what I have always loved about you, Arian. You are so very modest." Legolas leaned back, his long, lithe legs sliding to rest on the table.

"Will you invite her back again?"

"You are jealous; I can see that in your eyes." He was less playful than before.

"Will. You. Invite. Her. Back. Again?"

"Obviously not," He snapped, "I never learned her name; I would not know where to look."

"Please," she said with derision. "You are the best hunter of your court. If you wished, you could find her by week's end."

"I have no intention to. I will never see her again. Is that what you want me to say?" He said, rising and advancing until they were nose and nose, his bright eyes downcast to sink into her own.

"Yes," she whispered quietly, her elegant fingers sliding up his chest, pressing against his slow heartbeat.

She closed her eyes and he let her full lips cover his before gently rebuffing her.

"Arian," he warned. "Don't do this again."

He turned his back to her, his left hand braced on the table.

"I have to," She said, resting her cheek on the broad plane of his back. "I can't give up hope until I know beyond all doubt I cannot have you."

"I'm sorry, as always, to disappoint you, but you know that I could never love you; not after what you've done."

"Forgive me," she pleaded for the hundredth time. "I thought I loved him."

"Elladan is son of the most influential elven kings. You laid with him to try and advance yourself, just as we'd begun our courtship. I am not easily embarrassed, but you shamed me that day, and I cannot, will not, forget it. Nor can I trust you."

He turned to her again, cupping her face in his soft hands. "I will always cherish you as my friend, but you will never be my wife."

He finished the cup of wine on the table and made to leave.

"Who will be, then? Your edan beauty?"

"You know not. You're being petty, Arianrhod. It does not become you."

"Legolas—" She pleaded, but he was gone before she could say any more.

Miserene stuffed the soft gown into the bottom part of her trunk before pulling out a sack of coins she occasionally stole and hid from Aro. She was ten gold coins short after leaving last night. It would take nearly all she had to cover to difference to pay to Aro, but it was worth it.

She thought of the prince for the hundredth time since she snuck back just as dawn broke. She'd had no chance to sleep, but she knew when he did she would dream of him. In her whole life, she'd never seen anyone more handsome. Before, she had always marveled at Aro, for he had a mesmerizing beauty about him that was downright entrancing. But the prince, Legolas, was far lovelier. His face bore no malice, no cruelty, and it was sculpted in a way that suggested it had been molded by the gods. And he showed her a kindness no one had since she'd left home all those years ago. She'd always forgotten what kindness was, but he'd reminded her, and that gave her an odd strength again. She remembered her mother and father and she resolved to keep fighting for them; to never give up hope of reuniting with them.

"Miserene, my love." Aro was standing the doorway obscuring the dim light from the glowing dawn behind him.

"Aro," Miserene said. Trying to sound…cheerful? Pleasant? Glad?

"I have your money," she said, extending it to him.

He looked at the bag, smiled cruelly, than swiped it from her hand, sending the heavy coins in a hailstorm. Miserene covered her head to protect it then stood, too afraid to look Aro in the eye.

"Where were you last night, my love?"

"I was out working," she choked. "Then I was here, sleeping."

"That's odd, because I came several hours before dawn to invite you to _my_ bed, and you weren't here. Imagine my surprise, Miserene, my dismay, when I found my favourite plaything wasn't where I left her. Where were you last night?"

"Aro, I—"

Miserene's head snapped to the side as the back of his hand connected with her cheek. His ring had cut her, and a thing trail of blood sauntered down her cheek.

"Where were you?" He said again, swiping the blood from her cheek and gently gripping her neck.

She said nothing, not knowing what to say that wasn't incriminating. His hands were soft, and she winced when she thought of it. Aro was the worst sort of tormentor, for he took great pleasure in manipulating what she used to feel for him. It made him feel powerful, and mixing it with brute force excited him.

"It doesn't matter" he said, his thumb gently running back and forth across her pulse point. "We can just finish what we should have started last night."

"Aro, please, I'm so tired—"

"Then perhaps you shouldn't stay out so late next time," He advised cruelly.

His grip moved to her chin and he forced her eyes to his.

"Kiss me."

She hesitated, unable to look into his eyes and she the hopeful girl she'd once been trapped in them.

She gently resting a hand on his neck and he bent she could touch her lips to his own. His lips were soft and warm, and he did not fight her as her usually did, instead forcing her to make the kiss her own. Afraid, she deepened the kiss, not trusting how gentle he was. However, he did nothing, only mimicked her motions as her mouth opened and closed, hugging his top lip then his bottom then both at once. Eventually, she sagged into him, letting him hold her tiny waist as he used to. When she came up for air, his lips brushed the shell of her ear, just breathing for a moment before speaking in a voice that was not even a whisper.

"You know it pains me to say it, but I have to punish you for last night. You know that, don't you?"

She struggled trying to free herself from his grasp, but he gripped her waist so tightly she cried out, and he used the strength of his arms to throw her on the bed.

She didn't struggle, but he struck her again, and again, and again. Finally, breathless from his exertions, he began with unlace her corset, making quick work of the strings. When she was free of it, he tossed it aside. Her chemise he simply ripped, taking a triumphant breath through his nose as he looked down at her.

"Gods, you are so beautiful," He said, running one finger between her breasts.

"I never get tired of looking at you…Or riding you." He added, settled both knees between hers so she could not close them.

She turned her head so her tears leaked from only the corner of her eye, away from the side of her face Aro could see. She was ashamed of what she was going to allow him to do, and before she could stop herself she thought of what her elven prince would say if he ever saw her like this. _He would be disgusted_, she thought, and that produced even more tears.

Even more shameful, she felt Aro touching her, making sure his entrance would be smooth. When her body was ready, he heaved her off the bed, letting the skirt of her chemise fall away. He pushed her against the wall so she had to brace herself for support.

"I thought I'd give you something familiar," He said as he stood poised to enter. "Isn't this how you take most of your gentleman?"

Unable to stifle a sob she turned away, and he let her, running a hand instead from her neck to her navel. Then he sunk into her, groaning then giving a laugh.

"Gods, Miserene; Still so tight after all this time. It's like your body was meant for me."

His pumps made her smash painfully into the wall, and she knew he intended this so she would have to shift her posture to keep from ramming her kidneys. She pushed her hips forward and he groaned again, pushing deeply until she was completely full. He was sizably larger than most the men she serviced, and she gave an unintended inhale and he touched something inside which felt good. _This was why I am a whore_, she thought, _because I let men use me. _

"Kiss me." Aro demanded again, and she turned back to him, tears flowing freely as her tongue glided across his full lips, wetting them.

He buried his mouth in her neck biting then sucking until her knew he'd make a mark. Seemingly tired of taking her this way, he forced her back to the bed, pushing her hands into the frame at the end so he could fill her again, this time from behind. He knew that he could give her pleasure at this angle and he happily hit that spot several times. She whimpered and he yanked her hair, Pushing again and again until he pulled her undone, her body shaking. He held his own release, instead ramming her painfully with strokes meant to break her and she begged him to stop.

"We can't stop, you whore; I'm not done yet."

She sobbed at this and it made him laugh. He finally found a cruel release and she tried to pull her hips away to keep him from spilling inside her, but he held her firmly making sure she took every last drop.

"Don't forget, Miserene; You're mine."

She said nothing, only nodding.

"That's better ," he said, spinning her around again to survey her one more time. She blushed at this and he smirked.

"I love when you blush for me," he said, touching her cheek before striking it again.

"Remember what I said, Miserene. There's nowhere you can go that I won't find you."

The soon as the door closed, Miserene swiped the sheet from the bed to cover her nakedness, sliding to the floor and weeping bitterly. She let the blood he'd spilt run freely, and when she had no more tears or blood to shed, she rose.

He was wrong; he could not follow her into the forest. She immediately dug in her trunk, pulling out her dress from last night and throwing it on. After a display like that, Aro would surely want a drink, and that afforded her an opportunity. There was a back stairs that servants often used, and its door led right towards Mirkwood.

She tore down the stairs, throwing the door open and running as she never had before. Her feet were weightless as she glided forward, and in a matter of minutes she was under the cover of the verdure canopy. She did not stop running, and the pain on her bare feet was nothing as she continued forward, her breath now coming in ragged gasps. She thought she was near were the bonfire was, but of course it would not be lit for it was mid-morning and the lights only came at night. For hours she continued to wander, wondering whether she would die in the forest. Just when things looked most hopeless, she heard the sound of some kind of odd stretching, and female voice called down to her.

"You enter the realm of the King of Mirkwood when you should not; explain yourself, or my archers with shoot."

Miserene realized that the stretching had been the tightening bows.

"Please" she pleaded, "I know the prince!"

The bows seemed to loosen, though she could not tell in the darkness.

"We'll see about that," the phantom voice called. "Bound and blindfold her, and request a audience with the prince.


	4. Council

Miserene sat with hands bound and eyes still covered as the bell voices of elves ebbed and flowed around her. Wherever she was, it must have been fairly dark, for she could sense no light on the other side of her blindfold as she had when they had been traveling. In fact, she thought they might even be underground, which she found odd. She's always assumed the elves lived among the trees, not in caves like dwarves.

Suddenly there was a shuffle of boots and chairs, and a familiar voice called out to the dozen or so guards present.

"Where is this intruder? Bring her into the light."

"She's here, Legolas," the female archer said, and she untied the violet silk and nudged Miserene forward. Without her blindfold, Miserene found the chamber to be pleasantly well-lit. Above her glowed several torches that seemed to be illuminated by bottled sunlight rather than ordinary flame. Knowing the elves, Miserene would not be surprised if this was actually the case.

Unaccustomed to their brightness, Miserene squinted up at them, wincing as the action caused pain in her bruised left cheek. The prince had not yet turned to her, and Miserene studied his profile, finding it different than she'd remembered. Today his face held less gaiety, and around his brow he wore a gold circlet meant to remind everyone who their prince was.

When his azure eyes finally found hers, they swept up and down her form, widening as he took a step back, dumbfounded.

"It's you," was all her said, and Miserene blushed and looked to the floor, unsure of what that meant.

The dark-haired archer, who Miserene thought was one of the loveliest creatures she had even seen, came quickly to Legolas's side, her hand lightly brushing his arm as she spoke.

"We found her at the border of the realm. She insisted she be allowed to talk to you, but I know you have more pressing matters to attend to. Simply say the word and I—"

"Arian," Legolas interrupted, "Enough."

As he spoke, his eyes never traveled more than a foot or so from Miserene. Ignoring Arian's protests, he remained transfixed by her, stepping forward to continue his piercing inspection,

"Why are you here?" He asked, and then, as he got closer, "and what happened to your face?"

"I'm sorry, my lord. I came last night to the feast and when I went home I—" She paused, realizing how stupid she must have sounded to him. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't answer my question," He replied, folding one lithe arm into the other and drawing his fair features into a grim frown. "What happened to your face?"

Miserene stood choking on her words, fiercely debating whether she would be better suited to lie or tell the truth. Things had changed since last night; now it was not just the prince's good opinion she sought to win, but freedom from Aro's prosecution, and she doubted they would offer it to her if they knew what she was. Moreover, she wasn't even sure they'd allow her to stay without knowing she was a whore, so she decided she would not, could not, be honest.

"My brother is very cruel, and has a short temper." She said no more, knowing the more complicated her web, the greater the likelihood that she would get caught in it.

"He did this to your face?"

Miserene thought of how she'd really gotten the wounds, and she flushed, disgusted with herself.

"Yes."

"Is that why you came here, to seek protection from him?"

"Yes."

Legolas looked to his female companion then several other ethereal guards before turning back to Miserene, his face colder that she'd imagined possible.

"You were wrong to come."

"I know, I'm so sorry it's just that last night—"

Legolas held up a hand. "It is one thing to dance at my court; to dine at my table is another."

Miserene's stomach turned to ash and fell out. She had no money, no belongings. When the elves banished her, she would have no choice but to go back to Aro and beg his forgiveness.

"However, you have suffered greatly at the hands of another, and it is not our way to reject those who are truly in need of our help."

"My lord?" The elf called Arian said, her dark hair swinging back and forth and mirroring her agitation.

"You cannot mean…"

Once again, Legolas ignored her, signaling it was not her place to speak at this time. The prince was gazing at Miserene again, searching every corner as if seeking to memorize her face.

"What is your name?"

Miserene still felt burdened by his brilliant eyes, but she bore the weight bravely on her shoulders, pinning them back to make herself taller.

"Miserene."

Legolas frowned, as did several of the other faces in the room, who'd remained silent but engaged as their prince spoke.

"That is a sad name for a beautiful woman," Legolas observed, and as he said it Arian stiffened next to him.

"Well Miserene, though it has rarely been done before, I will offer you temporary solace within my father's walls. However, your stay cannot be permanent, as it is against our laws to allow an edan to know the secrets of Mirkwood. We will help you to recover, then you must go back to where you came from and forget the time you have spent with us. I assure you that the invitation will not be extended twice, and the next time you trespass in my kingdom, you will likely find an arrow in your heart."

The silence was broken as whispers of surprise rippled among those present. Some looked curious while others disdainful, and Legolas observed them all with careful eyes.

"If someone disapproves, let them speak now or hold they silence for eternity."

Miserene held her breath, not daring to be hopeful. For a moment no one spoke, then Arian stood, her voice a dulcet bell.

"Legolas, as your closest friend I must tell that what you doing is folly."

"Arianrhod," He replied, rising to his full height, "I've warned you before. You do not rule here. Have you no better council than that, I suggest you remain silent."

"When I tell your father of this—"

Legolas bore down on her, swallowing her form in his shadow.

"Are you saying you plan to reach over my head on this matter?"  
"This is serious, Legolas. Your father will no doubt agree."

"That is not for you to judge. I and I alone will speak to my father on this matter, and I promise he will see it as I do."

"I would not be so sure, "Arian warned, her long lashes brushing her cheeks as she looked up at him.

Legolas looked prepared to say more, and Miserene, sensing a heated argument of hoping to diffuse it, spoke up.

"If it troubles you, my lord, I will go. I do not wish to cleave you from your friends over something so petty."

"No," Legolas insisted, his blue eyes more tranquil as he looked across the long wood table at her. "You are my guest. To refuse my invitation now would be an insult."

Miserene nodded, gratitude rushing up and momentarily overwhelming her.

"Thank you, my lord. I am forever indebted to your kindness." She bowed and looked up at him again, meeting his gaze the same way she had when they'd first met.

"Strange," he mused as he cocked his head "I never imagined I would see you again."

To this Miserene said nothing, and in an effort to evade Arian's heavy gaze, she looked to the soft wood at her feet.

"Delyth," He said, gesturing to a willowy female clad in green, "take Miserene so that she can be treated for her wounds and allowed to rest."

Delyth gave a beautiful warm smile and came forward, folding Miserene's hand into her own.

"Take care, mellon-nin." Legolas said to her, a hand at his heart in customary farewell. "Tonight we shall dine and you may tell me of the troubles which have befallen you so that I may better understand."

"Thank you," Miserene repeated, bowing slightly before following Delyth out of the room.

a/n Phew, another one bites the dust. I know where I want to go with this story but I'm still a little fuzzy on how I am going to get there, so hang in with me, my updates may not be as prompt as they should be. Cara'ch.

Also, as always, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. It is the nourishment my soul needs to survive. Without it, my soul shrivels and dies which, as you could imagine, would kinda suck. SO PLEASE REVIEW. Love you all

-Secret Admirer


	5. Dinner with The Prince

a/n SHAMELESS PLUG FOR MYSELF BECAUSE I AM A SELFISH BASTARD. In addition to this story, I am also writing one for Harry Potter, so if you're interested, take a gander. Also, I am madly in love with you all, thank you sooooo much for your support.

MWUAH

Your Secret Admirer.

**Chapter 4, Dinner with the Prince.**

"You are truly lovely, edan-nin. Wealth and fine things suits you."

Miserene turned her head away, ignoring the words of the elven maid as she adjusted the silk folds of Miserene's emerald gown. The gown _was _lovely, for the green was a natural complement to the copper of her hair. She was lovely too, she'd always known and accepted that, but the statement saddened and distressed Miserene. Aro had once told her that it was her loveliness which made him choose her, which made her so desirable to so many, including himself. He'd admitted that he thought often of marrying and keeping her all for himself, but he couldn't bear the loss of the hefty income she provided him. She blamed her loveliness for all her all sadness, and it even awoke a strange anger in her belly.

"Thank you," She said at last, not wanting to insult the creatures who'd already shown her too much kindness, "That was kind of you to say."

"Not kind, edan-nin, truthful. You will find that elves rarely lie."

To this Miserene did not reply, just closed her eyes to fight the mounting pressure building behind them.

Her pain was alleviated soon after, for the door opened and a lanky male elf entered, speaking quickly and quietly to the maid, who listened without comment. Finally she nodded, and the male left the room without ever observing or engaging Miserene.

"The Túr awaits you. Come, I will take you to him." The maid extended her hand to Miserene, who took it gingerly.

She was still so unaccustomed to this hospitality, and she was also still skeptical of it. She admired the sound of the gown as it swished around her legs while she walked. How she had dreamed of moments such as this when she was young, and how different it now was that she was actually experiencing it.

The room she was taken to must have been near the top of the underground laberinth, for when she entered, she noticed the last slivers of daylight slipping through a wide-set window in the ceiling. In the presence of his guest at last, Legolas stood and bowed to Miserene, smiling with warm pleasure as she watched him do the same.

"My lord," She said, not sure how she ought to address him.

He nodded, acknowledging that he approved of this title.

"Come," He gestured. "Sit, eat."

This time she nodded, sinking into the chair across from him and looking down at her plate.

A servant came with a resplendent silver pitcher in her hand, indicating Miserene's goblet and silently asking if Miserene was thirsty. Miserene hesistated, for she'd grown skeptical of proffered drinks after living so long in a tavern, and Legolas gave her a somewhat imperious look.

"Try it. It is the best wine in Middle-Earth. If my father were here, he would happily tell you it is one of the greatest treasures of this kingdom"

Still dubious, Miserene allowed her goblet to be filled, and feeling the prince's eyes still on her, she brought it to her lips and drank.

It was clearly an expensive vintage, for it had a smooth, exquisite taste which far exceeded anything one would find in The Sinking Ship, maybe even the whole of Laketown. It reminded her of home, of Gondor, where her parents served a similar wine for special occasions. The memory sent a pang, but she ignored it.

"It's lovely."

Legolas smiled, leaning back slightly in his chair and continuing to survey her as she took a second sip, then a third.

"I knew you would find it so."

He was kind, Miserene could already tell that from the little time she'd spent with him, but he was also a prince, and as such he'd not escaped without some sense of arrogance and smug self-satisfaction.

Finally, he took his own glass in hand, raising it slightly to her before taking a drink. Soon after, more servants appeared, bringing plates of fresh fruits, a wide array of cheeses, and fresh bread. There was also a flagon of a golden liquid, which Miserene realized was honey. It had been some time since she had seen such a glorious table, and her mouth began to water.

"I hope it does not displease you, but we do not eat meat here."

"I don't mind," She assured him, watching as her gold plate was filled with the bounty. After they'd been served, Legolas waved the servants off. When they were gone, he turned azure eyes on her.

"Before we eat, I must tell you how beautiful I find you. I have scarcely seen an edan who is your equal."

Miserene clenched her jaw, swallowing a sneer. "I often find that men think so, though I have to admit I have little time for such compliments."

Legolas raised his eyebrows, and Miserene feared she had spoken out a turn.

"I see. And may I ask why?"

"I'm sorry," she said at once. "I should not have spoken so rudely, for you have been so kind to me, I just…"

"Just what?" He prompted. His cool eyes were more brightly lit, and Miserene could see that he had simply been stating a fact, not seeking to win or possess her, and that he was distressed that she potentially thought it so.

"I was born this way. I can't change my appearance, no one can. I would rather be praised for who I am then something I cannot control."

"That was eloquently said; so many women would seek to be judged and rewarded on their looks alone." He pointed out.

"Beauty can be trouble as much as advantage to a woman."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes," she said, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in her lap. "I do."

"I'm sorry," He said abruptly.

"For what?" she asked. "You have shown me nothing but kindness."

"For what you must have endured to make you see the world in such a manner."

She said nothing, so he continued. "The mortal world can be at times forgiving, I understand that, but in my world there is much more peace, more compassion. I hope in your time here you will see and take solace in that."

"Thank you. I look forward to it"

He nodded his head, and they ate for a moment in silence. Knowing that the conversation would turn to her if she didn't act, she addressed him again.

"I heard a rumour that you fought in the Great War; that you were a friend of the great king of Gondor. Is that true?"

"It is. Aragorn was a close friend of mine, and I fought many battles by his side."

"Is that why you like the edan? Because of him?"

"Partly, yes. Before the war, I had spent little time among mortal kind, but in times of distress like that one, the differences between man and elves seem insignificant. Also, I find the edan to be a fascinating race. In all my years since the war, I've never grown tired of studying their ways."

Miserene smiled, the first she'd given in quite some time, and Legolas's eyes glistened as he bathed in the warm glow of her radiant pleasure.

"Why? We are so flawed compared to you."

"And that is part of what I like! For the _edhel_, time is infinite. We rarely feel in any rush, for whatever we want, we have as much time as we need to see that it is done. This is not so for men. They have but one lifetime to achieve all that they desire, and I enjoy the fire they must hold in their bellies to drive them towards what they want."

Miserene smiled again, for it had been beautifully said, and she'd never thought of her race in such a way. Legolas was clearly intellectual, and she admired his intellect above all the qualities she had yet seen in him, even his compassion.

"I'd never considered this before," She admitted.

"That is something else I love. They seem not to understand their value, nor revel in it. I find humility an exceedingly admirable trait."

She blushed. His candor was direct and it caused her heart to warm slightly.

"Now," He said, taking another drink from his goblet. "I sense that you do not wish to speak of it, but I must hear of your past. Some of it, at least."

Miserene sighed. She hated lying to Legolas more now than ever, and she'd never been particularly adept as spinning a yarn. He seemed to be very good at reading her, and she couldn't bear the thought of his casting her out now. She began slowly, trying to stick to the truth as much as she was able.

"First, you must know that my parents were perfect, and leaving them when I did is a regret which plagues me almost constantly."

"Why did you then?"

"My brother, he…he never got along with them, and he exploited my innocence and tricked me away from them. Convinced me to leave Gondor with him and come here, to Laketown. Once were arrived, though, I began to see him for who he really way. He was much older, you see, and was absent most my childhood. I was so enamored with him when he returned, so eager to win his love, that I allowed him to take me from what I knew. But when we arrived, I found out he was a drinker, a gambler, a cheat, and a brute. What little money we earned he spent of drink and whores, and we had to work the worst jobs to keep afloat."

"What sort of jobs?" He was frowning, clearly entranced by her story. She felt an acidic guilt rising in her throat like bile, and it took some doing to swallow it again.

"Hard labour. The worst was…" She paused again, suddenly stricken with tears. "The mines."

She couldn't bear to look at him, but finally she did, and in his eyes she saw a sadness and horror that rivaled her own.

"I am sorry for what you have suffered. My dearest wish is that you will suffer no more, neither at the hands of your brother, nor any other."

"Thank you," she said through tears, "You are the kindest person I have met for quite some time."

He smiled at her, a slight arrogance latently shadowing his handsome face. It was mild, though, and without malice, and Miserene admitted to herself that instead of being off-putting, it only made him more handsome.

"I have upset you. Come, you've shared enough. let us talk of something else. I must warn you, tomorrow my father will insist on meeting you at court. He can be cold, but he is also very just, and he will no doubt welcome you as I have."

"What about your dark-haired friend? The beautiful one…"

"Do not let Arianrhod intimidate you, she bears you true ill-will. In fact, her distain has little to do with you at all; it is me with whom she wishes to quarrel."

"May I ask why?"

"I believe you already have." There was silence, and when Miserene accepted he would not tell her, he spoke again. "She is under the mistaken impression that she and I.."

She understood, but was thunderstruck by the reluctance in his tone. "She's in love with you And you do not feel the same?"

He nodded. "Yes, but her love is misguided. She is dear friend and has been for many centuries, but it is not me she loves, but my throne."

"I didn't think an elf would be…" she trailed off, "My lord, forgive me. That was outrageously rude."

"No, you are right. It is not generally our way to show ambition in such a fashion. But like I said before, the partition between your race and mine is thinner than you think."

By this time the meal was nearly finished, and servants reappeared to clear their plates. When they were alone again, Legolas stood, prompting her to follow.

"Thank you for dinner," she said, "it was lovely."

"It was my pleasure."

Miserene curtsied then, knowing this was an edan custom but not knowing its elven counterpart. The prince nodded to say that he understood and accepted the gesture, then allowed her to glide past him. When she was almost beyond his reach, he extended an arm, softly grabbing her elbow. Her heart thudded wetly as he did so, for male contact, even something as innocent as this, pained her.

"Miserene," He breathed, his eyes gliding slowly and gracefully across the planes of her face. "Of all the edan I have known, even those who were close friends, you are the most interesting I've met. Please, allow me to spend more time in your company."

"You are prince here, my lord. If you command it, of course it shall be done."

"I would never wish to command such a thing as this. If you do not desire my company, I would never force it upon you."

He looked slightly bruised by her accusation, and the honesty and sorrow in his gaze was the very reason she suddenly felt so eager to accept.

"I would desire nothing less, my lord, thank you."

"Legolas, please."

She did not yet feel comfortable addressing him as such, so she just nodded her head to acknowledge that she would henceforth abide by this request.

"Sleep well, Miserene," He said, his hand outlining but not touching her cheek. "I hope you will find your sleep as suitable as the food."

"I am sure I will" she said, giving him the most beautiful smile he'd yet seen on her lips.

"Goodnight," she finished as she sojourned to the door, and when she looked back, he smiled at her, nodding his agreement.

"Until tomorrow then."

a/n Solid. This story is finally starting to take direction. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, thank you for bearing with me as I balance and develop Legolas's character. It's hard to work with an already established character who is so kind, when my natural tendency is to make my leading men snarky and sinfully flirtatious. ;) As always, REVIEW MY LOVELIES. Everything I've heard back has been _so_ lovely thus far, and I _so so_ appreciate and adore you all!

See you all soon!

Your Secret Admirer


	6. Hail The Sun King

**Chapter Six: Hail the Sun King**

Miserene had to remind herself not to fidget as she stood outside the door of the king's hall, pressing her wet palms against the midnight velvet of her full skirt. She could hear a medley of voices echoing from the chamber beyond, but they spoke very quickly, and more to the point, she did not understand their language.

She twirled one gold earring around her finger, biting her lip. Despite what Legolas had said, she was _extremely_ nervous. If He so wished it, His Majesty could have her thrown out at once, and then she would worse off than before she'd left Laketown. She needed the king to approve of her as Legolas had, but she sensed that would be hard, especially with the elf Arian whispering council into his ear. She had every reason to want Miserene gone, and she didn't strike Miserene as the type of creature who gave up easily.

However, Miserene had no time to further contemplate this, because the gleaming doors in front of her swung in, and she felt herself being pulled in by some invisible force, quite possibly her own courage. As always, every head in the room was pointed to her, and she tried to watch the spectrum of excitement and emotion with impassivity.

Seated in the back of the room on a magnificent gold throne sat the king, Thranduil, and to his left sat Legolas, who did not smile but awarded her a look with luminous eyes which indicated he was pleased by her presence.

When she was about ten feet from the golden king, she knelt, lowering her eyes to the ground in a sign of abject respect.

"Rise, edan-nin." He was a resplendent figure to behold, as handsome as his son but more powerful and more arrogant, constantly radiating an air of supreme authority. He drank her in fully, and she felt bare under his gaze. Finally, he spoke.

"Welcome to my kingdom." He raised his chin, looking down at her and smirking. He was waiting for her praise and she did not hesitate.

"Your palace is without equal, as is your hospitality. I am forever in your debt."

He nodded, accepting her praise. "I have heard of your misfortune, Miserene of Gondor. I wish to extend to you my sorrow at your tragedy."

Miserene lowered her eyes in gratitude. "Thank you, my lord." Despite the kindness of his words, she felt they were more calculated than sincere. King Thranduil did not strike her as the time of being who acted in any other interest other than his own.

"I am glad also that Legolas has shown you such kindness, for he has acted as I would wish him to." At this the king nodded a head to Legolas, who gave a mild but somewhat superior smile.

"I understand that he has extended you the courtesy of our hospitality for several days."

Miserene swallowed a nervous lump. "He has, my lord, so long as it pleases your majesty, of course." She gave another small bow, assuming that it couldn't hurt.

He nodded. "Indeed. As the king and ruler of this realm, I would like to expand on that offer. It is forbidden that any edan live among our people. However, you are not all mortal. Legolas tells me that your grandmother was a grey elf, and their fair features are reflected in your face. As such, I would like to offer you the unprecedented honour of living indefinitely among our people for the duration of your mortal time.

There were several audible gasps in the court and Miserene, incredulous, looked to Legolas, wishing to silently thank him for his interference. However, the shock passing over his face informed her that he had no knowledge of this, although his confusion soon slipped to pleasure, and he fixed Miserene with such a look that she could not help but blush.

The whispers continued, and Miserene looked around, taking in the reactions and hoping that at least some were positive. The first face she saw was Arianrhod's, and she looked furious and dismayed. But she held her head high, proudly displaying her own beauty as if to diminish Miserene's. Embarrassed, Miserene looked away, catching the eye of a sandy-haired elf who actually winked at her. She appreciated and enjoyed the joviality of his face, and also his approval. Finally, she looked to Thranduil, meeting him straight in the eye for the first time.

This time, she actually fell to her knees, surprised by several tears which slipped down her cheeks.

"Your majesty, I cannot…I do not know what I can say that could adequately express my gratitude. You have offered me the greatest gift imaginably. I shall cherish my time here. Thank you."

Thranduil nodded then looked to his feet, concentrating.

"Now," He said looking up again and readjusted the grip on the white-gold scepter his left hand. "New though this arrangement may be, I must still honour my people's traditions as well as keep my people at ease, for if we were to name of flaw in ourselves, it would be distrust of outsiders. I have but one stipulation if you are to stay here. After the war, many of our number went into the West and as such, our size have lessened in the last several centuries. Thus, my price is this: if you choose to stay among us, I must insist that you take no mate while you are here. Do you to this term?"

For some reason a lump rose in her throat. It was not that she'd expected herself to meet and fall in love with an elf as her grandfather had, but it was rather the realization that the price of admission would be to never love, and broken as Miserene was by her experience, she was saddened by this alternative. Inexplicably, she felt her gaze being drawn to Legolas. However, he was not looking at her, rather away, maybe even at Arianrhod, who at this radiating more than ever. Miserene considered at last the cruelty she'd suffered at the hands of men, and her mind was made up.

"You have my promise."

"Then you are forever welcome to my court."

At this, the majority of those assembled began to cheer, and Miserene's eyes were again filled with tears. Miserene looked back to Legolas, whose was smiling so brightly that he seemed to light the entire hall.

"Welcome," He chorused, Miserene smiled back.

She watched Thranduil descend he steps of his elevated throne, and come to lightly grip her shoulder, "Tonight a banquet in your honour."

"Thank you," She repeated, bowing again.

"Come, prepare yourself. I promise that tonight with offer a splendor you could not previously imagine."

His azure eyes, so like his son's, sparkled with powerful pleasure, clearly reflecting the pleasure he would reap from her awe at the spectacle. The wood-elves, Thranduil in particular, were collectors of jewels and gold, and Miserene thought she would see the full extent of his wealth.

"Until then, a rest perhaps."

Miserene bowed, and the others did the same as Thranduil strode for the hall and an elf took Miserene's arm, preparing her for another beautiful outfit. As she was pulled out, Miserene turned to look at Legolas one last time, warmed by the pleasure and admiration shining on his fair face.

A/N Done and DONE! I'm not working anymore, so expect much prompter updates. Love you all

Your Secret Admirer


	7. A Dance Tongued in Flame

a/n: I realized that I have been posting pitifully short chapters, so my goal for this one is at least 3,000 words, I won't stop until I've gotten to at least that point! Still, I am really doing nothing at this point in my life, so I have nothing but time.

Love you all, Thank you so much for the reviews, especially Lady Minuialwen, because she has been very supportive and keeps me writing with frequency.

Your Secret Admirer xx

Chapter Six: A Dance Tongued in Flame

"Please, your majesty, you must tell me why."

Thranduil did not immediately answer, simply nodded to a maid, indicating she bring a decanter of wine and two goblets. Arian stood before him, her chest heaving slightly and her violet eyes filled with anxiety and distress, though this did little to diminish her unearthly beauty.

"Arian, mellon-nin, sit with me and drink. It pains me to see you so distressed."

Arian frowned, then came to sit at the king's right, taking his proffered hand.

"Will you tell me why you allowed her to stay? Please, my lord, I must know."

"I will, Arian, of course I will. Though I would not have, had I known what anguish it would cause you!" He brushed a hand across her cheek, seeking to wipe away some of the stress there.

"Trouble brews beyond my borders. There are rumours of a new power dawning in the East, and as you know attacks on the border have increased. But you also know that I do not have to power to fight them alone. If we are to maintain our lavish way of life, I require aid, which only Rivendell can provide me. Even with Legolas' influence, Elrond has largely excluded me from his council, for I fear he does not trust that my motives are pure."

"I fail to understand how that includes the girl."

"Elrond has a weakness for the edan; he has since his daughter became their princess and eventually passed away. If the situation were reversed, he would have taken pity of her and allowed her to stay. By doing this, I will win back some of his trust. Besides, a friendship with Rivendell is a friendship with the Lords of Moria. Long have I wished to possess the jewels of their mines, and now I am finally rewarded the chance."

Arian ran a long ivory finger around the rim of her goblet, too immersed in thought to drink.

"So you would use this girl to further your ends?"

"Why should that concern you?" Thranduil asked, a slight edge in his voice. "You seem to have no love for the creature."

Arian, looked away, her face defiant. "I don't trust her. I believe she may be more that she seems, and that I find unnerving."

Thranduil actually laughed. "Of course she is, but she is also of no threat to us. It's clear that she is untrained, and she is no noble, so no matter how long she stays she will never learn any information that would be of use to a traitor or spy."

Arian nodded, but her shoulders remained tightly wound.

"What is it, Arian, that plagues you so? Not that you need hear it, but of course I can tell you that this edan woman will never be your equal. You are far fairer then she, that much is and will always be clear to all who gaze upon you as a pair."

"That's not it!" Arian cried, though in truth that did have some to do with her distress. Despite her plainness, Legolas seemed genuinely entranced by the girl's physical form, and that annoyed Arian. She was not sure if she dared speak her mind to Thranduil, because she feared that she would get Legolas in trouble as well, and she did not want to damage her campaign to win his affection back.

"It's Legolas."

"Legolas?" Thranduil repeated seriously, putting down his goblet for the first time since it arrived. "What about him?"

"I don't like the way she looks at him. She is foolish and simple and I fear that she has fallen in love with him and will try to betwitch him away. She is always looking at him, quietly pining over him."

Thranduil, no longer concerned, laughed. "I saw no such looks pass between them! I fear you may have imagined this, my dear. Besides, Legolas knows he must one day rule this kingdom. He would not ruin its safety by surrendering to the desires of a simple edan woman."

Arian said nothing and looked away.

"Things have not changed, then," Thranduil noted, rubbing a hand across Arian's. He'd known Arianrhod since she was a child, and had hoped, as Arian herself had, that she would someday wear the crown Legolas's mother had worn. They were of a similar shrewd mind, Arian and Thranduil, and they had always admired and respected one another immensely.

She only shook her head; tangled in the feathered curtain of her dark lower lashes were several diamond tears. "No," she managed, "I fear that they have not."

"They you must not give up hope, Arianrhod! Legolas is extremely proud, but he still cares for you. Remind him of it and you will no doubt be rewarded."

Arian swiped at the tears, nodding again. "I hope that you are right, my lord. In all I do I only ever seek your son's approval."

They both stood, and Miserene bowed to Thranduil, who took her head in his hands and placed a soft kiss on the top of it.

"All is not lost, _elleth-nin_. I will speak to Legolas this evening on your behalf."

If Miserene thought the dresses she'd been given to wear before were lovely, she found them downright plain compared to what she wore for the feast. It was light, close in colour to Miserene's skin, and it was dusted with diamonds and other such jewels. It was absolutely exquisite and as before she could stop herself, she wondered what of Legolas would think of it when he saw her. She twirled slightly in the mirror, admiring the craftsmanship of the design even from the back. They also wove diamonds into her copper hair, and when they were done, she'd never felt more beautiful. Also, she noticed, she'd never looked more like an elleth. Perhaps it was from sharing their company or drinking their wine, by the gray-elven features in her face seemed more pronounced, and turning to the side, she swore her ears even looked different, drawn more to a point the way the elves' were. When she was finished vainly admiring herself, Miserene left the room, finding her way the grand staircase where she was meant to meet Legolas and his party. When she arrived, there was silence while those assembled watched her ascend the stairs. When she'd build up the courage, she turned to look at Legolas, and his eyes shone the way they always did when he looked at her. She remembered how he'd complimented when they'd last dined, and she wondered if he still found her as beautiful as she found him. She approached him at once, touching a soft hand to her heart then to his in greeting. This seemed to please him even more, and his face fell into an effortless smile.

"Miserene, as always, you look…wonderful." He was looked at her intently and she blushed.

Just then a tall elf approached. Miserene recognized him as the sandy-haired elf who'd encouraged her when Thranduil announced his invitation, and she smiled at him to signal she appreciated the gesture immensely. He was, as all the elves, fair of face, though his face was more jovial than traditionally handsome. He exuded charm and good-humour, and though Miserene had yet to even hear him speak, she knew she would like him.

"Amarydd," He said in greeting, his hand over his heart. "Though I think Am suits me much better."

"Miserene," she replied, then before she could help herself, "thank you, for today. I needed that."

He bowed, smiling again. "Legolas is my best friend and I trust his judgment. He seems to be very fond of you; for that, I consider you a friend already, edan-nin."

Miserene fought off a blush, but when she looked at Legolas and he winked, she could not help as it crept up her cheeks.

"Why are we waiting?" Legolas said after a minute shifting from foot to foot. "I hear the goblet calling my name!"

Am looked down the step, his honey eyes swinging right and left. "We should not leave Arian."

Legolas gave a merry laugh and Am a little scowl. "You may insist on being a bad friend, but I do not."

Legolas made a reproving look, and Miserene felt as if she was intruding on a conversation which was decidedly private, especially given what she knew about Arian and Legolas' relationship.

Legolas ignored the barb, though, and after less than a minute Am turned away from the staircase, a muted disappointment on his face.

"Come, she knows her way to the fire. Let us not delay our merriment!"

He took Miserene's hand and patted it, and Legolas and he, accompanied with myriads of others dressed in pastel silks and velvets, made their way to the stables. Every rider found their equine companion at once, and Legolas led Miserene back to a sorrel stallion.  
"This is Cìrdan," He said, and Miserene reached up to stroke his soft nose, and he snorted happily at her touch. "He is my gift to you."

Miserene continued to stroke his nose, looking into his intelligent eyes. She remembered her old horse in Gondor, and how her and her younger brother Roran used to ride him up and down the countryside of Osgiliath, laughing merrily. The memory pained her, but she swallowed it. It did not good to dwell on the past; it was already gone.

"I love him already," She said, and Legolas smiled.

"Come," He said, "they will not light the fires until we arrive."

They both mounted, she atop Cìdran and he riding his dazing white stallion Shadowfax, who he told her had been a gift from Mithrandìr, who had since gone into the west. He was proud and strong perched on Shadowfax, and Miserene could see the future king in him.

Turning in his saddle, he grinned at her as if he was just a child. "Are you ready?"

"Come then!" Am called for the stable's mouth, and Miserene nodded, at which point both Am and Legolas took off, the hooves of this horses only ghosting the ground as they tore through the near darkness.

Miserene, who was an accomplished rider, easily kept up, and she found that even in the non-existent light that she was able to see. She had a suspicion this was in some way correlated to the apparent change in her features, and she reveled in this new development. As they rode, Miserene realized she was the happiest she'd been in a long time. It was as if Legolas and his resplendent court were a balm which soothed the scars Aro had taken such care to inflict.

In what seemed no time at all, Miserene saw Legolas slowing in front of her, dismounting at once. Others were already gathered, and at his command, someone began the fire, which caught alight very quickly. There were cheers and bits of songs as the flames sprang skyward, warming the cool air. The hands of the elves were soon filled with copper goblets, and when Miserene was offered one by Am, she smiled and accepted gladly. Legolas immediately assumed his role as master of ceremonies, and he orchestrated the dance, then came to Miserene's side, requesting she dance. She remembered it from the night they met, and they fell in step at once, his hands encircling her small waist as they spun. How glad she know was that she'd chosen to go that night, and how lucky she'd been to met a stranger as kind as Legolas.

"You are thinking a deep thought, it seems," He commented, his eyes dancing over her face. "Will you share it with me?"

"I was just thinking…how lucky I feel. You and your father have shown me kindness. I'd forgotten what it was; you've helped me to remember."

"Then I will rejoice in your happiness as it is my own. Come, eat with me."

He took her hand in his, leading her to a plate full of fresh fruits and cheeses, and they ate together, laughing and smiling. Soon, they joined the dance again, their eyes never leaving one another's as they spun and spun. However, as he came around the face they clearing where they entered, he slowed, his hand stilling as he looked, transfixed. Miserene turned to see, just as Legolas breathed "Arianrhod."

Arian stood at the clearing, holding the reins of her midnight mare and looking more beautiful than Miserene had even seen her. Though the other elves wore varying hues of spring greens and soft yellows, Arian wore a gown of shimmering onyx silk, which picked up the flickering light of the fire, making her look as if she were glowing like an ember. Her dark hair, which Miserene had previously thought was black, was actually an extremely deep shade of blue, and it only added the the illusion of flame. The music seemed to quiet and no one could do anything but stare because she was the most transfixing and beautiful creature in middle earth. Her gown was also perfectly cut, and one could not miss the perfect curves and swells of her body. Miserene felt a pang as Legolas' arm slipped from her waist and he approached Arian, still unable to take his eyes off her. Legolas, for all this triumphs, was still an elf of the Mirkwood realm, and like his father, he had a distinct appreciation for treasure and beauty. Arian immediately became the centre of the dance, and Miserene declined the hand of a young elf and backed away, resting her head on the trunk of a tree as she watched Arian swirl, her face radiant under Legolas' gaze. Looking across the flames, Miserene noticed Am couldn't not stop watching either, though he looked at Arian with a desire that was much deeper than Legolas'. She realized that just as Arian loved Legolas, so Amarydd loved her. As she watched, Legolas and Arian spoke in hushed tones, decidedly less gay, and when she leant towards him he gently leant away. Eventually the music died and she slunk away from him, her hips swishing as she went at once to Am's side and drank from a proffered goblet. Legolas returned to Miserene.

"Forgive me."

Miserene couldn't help herself as she watched Arian talk animatedly to Am, who responded in kind. "She really is the most beautiful thing alive."

"She is," He agreed, looking over at Arian, who seemed to sense his gaze and matched it steadily. "I am the very first to admit it."

"Then why don't you love her?"

He gave a thoughtful. "Remember when you told me that you wished others would see you for more than your beauty?"

She nodded.

"For Arian, it is just the opposite. She's spent her whole life being praised for it, and she would not want to be known or remembered for anything else."

She felt somehow emboldened by this and the admission meant he seemed open to discussing it, so she pushed on. "I think it may be more than that."

He looked down at her, either impressed or annoyed by her keenness. "Perhaps."

She said nothing, and eventually he began to speak.

"Arian and I have been friends since we were children, and when the time came and we grew into adults, the attraction we'd always shared became…romantic. It seemed natural, and everyone, especially my father, was waiting for us to join together. However, we danced around it, I don't know why, and then the time came for me to go to Lord Elrond's council. Not to be driven apart, she came with me, though she was not invited to join council. It was unexpected, but I joined the hobbit Frodo Baggins on his quest, and so I had to leave Arian. But by that time, something had caught her attention in Rivendell and she remained there instead of returning here. You see, Arian has always a mind for power, and when I left, I put her access to it in jeopardy. After all, I could die in battle, and then she would be no further. Besides, my kingdom has not nearly the influence Elrond's does, and she of course found this alluring. Almost as alluring as Elrond's sons found her. Both Elladan and Elrohir fell easily under her charms, and when it was decided that Elladan would succeed his father, it was Elladan she chose. She remained in Rivendell for a year or so, but evidently grew tired for Elladan despite his power and returned here just as I did. She was ready to marry me, but on the eve of our wedding, I received word of her affair and broke it off. We did not speak for many years, and since then she has worked very hard to re-win my affection. I care for Arian, but I fear that my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

Miserene nodded, entranced by this tale. She never imagined an elf who was devious like Arian, and she could barely stomach the shock. By this time, the dance had ended, and Legolas led Miserene to a spot where they could continue to talk.

"You have a way about you, Miserene. It makes me want to tell you everything. How strange that an edan could have such an effect on me."

"I don't!" She said incredulously. "I think we just find each other easy to trust. You also can put me at ease."

This made him smile.

"So," she said, accepting a goblet of wine he offered her. "What shall I do tomorrow? And the next day? And every day after that?"

"Tomorrow, and every day after that," He said, "I will teach you Mirkwood, to shoot, to ride, to find food. The forest offers innumerable splendors; I promise you shall never grow bored. Am will wish to help, of course, and Arian might, too, if she can overcome her unwarranted jealousy. To learn the bow and knife is no small task, and the more teachers, the easier it is."

Miserene smiled. "I look forward to it, certainly."

He only smiled, leaning over slightly to nudge closer to her. She stiffened slightly, thinking of Aro doing something similar, but she let the feeling wash over her and pass, and she let out a small huff of relief.

They sat for more than hour, watching the dancing and frivolity in silence. Finally, he nudged her gently again. Come, it's several hours before the sun rises. We should sleep, life begins early here."

She nodded and took his hand as they rose. She realized after a second that she had not seen Cidran since she'd dismounted, but somehow she knew how to find him. Pursing her lips the way her mother had when she was calling the children into dinner, gave a high whistle. From next to her, Legolas turned, impressed. A second later he gave a similar whistle, and Shadowfax emerged, followed closely by Cidran. Behind him was Arian's mare, and she floated past Miserene and leaping gracefully into the saddle, bringing the creature around before bidding Legolas and the others goodnight and taking off. Miserene looked to Legolas and Am, who'd also reemerged. They both smirked and gave a shrug before remounted themselves. Miserene noticed that Am let Legolas take the lead, and she did the same, following the ivory tail of Shadowfax as he weaved through the trees. The ride took a quarter of an hour, and when the returned, the horses where rehoused and they headed towards the mouth of the castle cave's entrance. It was there that Am bid Lothlona goodnight, promising he would indeed be there tomorrow for the first of what he promised to be many days of training. Legolas lingered however, and he accompanied Miserene to her door. They were both engulfed by thought as they walked, and when they reached the door, he halted.

"Thank you," She said, nodding. "It was an evening of splendor. Thank your father as well. Tell him I was not disappointed."

"I will," He laughed, and she nodded. His eyes were sparkling again and his cheeks were flushed with drink, and perhaps it was the effect of her own drink, but she'd never found him more handsome. For some reason, she thought he might be thinking something similar about her, because he didn't speak, simply watched her. Then slowly, he leaned toward her, and for an alarming second, she thought he might kiss her. Was that alarm? Her heart and pulsed thumped loudly, but it was not the trepidation she'd felt when Aro had bent in search of her lips the last time she'd seen him. By now, she could feel the breath kissing her face, and her eyelashes slipped closed. However, at the last minute her minute dawned in realization. She'd promised Thranduil she would abstain, and even if she hadn't, she was sure that Legolas would always have been off limits. Besides, she'd made a promise to herself; she'd never let a man treat her this way again. Hadn't Aro acted similar to this when she'd first met him all those years ago? Hadn't he been handsome and powerful and charming? Her instinct told her she could trust Legolas, but if he really intended to possess her now, then he was no different.

However, none of this musing mattered, for at the last minute she realized that he did not intend to kiss her. Rather, he placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and gave the customary farewell.

"Goodnight, edan-nin. I look forward to tomorrow."

"As do I," she replied, and with one last smile, she disappeared through her door.

a/n STAY TUNED


	8. First Blood

A/N Sorry, I fell really out of a touch with this story! I'm back though. Also, kind of worried Miserene is becoming a Mary Sue. Let me know? Thank you all!

Secret Admirer xx

**Chapter 8: First Blood**

Miserene was running, running faster than she ever had in her life. Her breath had become tapered, but it did not slow her, and she pushed and pulled the air clearly through her nose as she tore through the trees, bow clutched tightly in her left hand.

Her soft leather boots made barely a sound as her feet ghosted over the leaves on the forest floor, and she leapt to avoid fallen logs without having to look down at her feet. Light had begun to be scarce as it was nearly sundown, but that did not phrase Miserene. She was near the edge of the kingdom were the canopy was thinner, and deep punctures of dying sun dotted the main road. Of course, Miserene wasn't on the main road but rather beside it, but her eyes flicked to it often, keeping tabs on the heaving beast she was hunting as it lumbered down the worn path.

Mirkwood was the home to many dangers, but the one which most often plagued the elves was the Filtrain. They were wolves, but oversized, and their appetite for elven flesh was seemingly boundless. Although the caves were well-protected, the Vilnius were smart and patient, adept at cornering and killing even skilled hunters. A greater hunter could take on one Vilnius, though it was no small feat, but more than one and no one stood a chance. That was why Legolas ordered them killed on site, and even hunted by those who had the skill. Miserene had watched Am and Legolas and Arian each kill several Vilnius, but Legolas had insisted that today he'd felt a favourable wind, and it was her turn to hunt.

Her eyes moved left to the road again. What was the beast waiting for? They had hunted the majority of this pack, but it was possible that more from farther West had come to help. Miserene needed to break free of the trees and kill this one. If she must kill a second, she would have to finish the first off before it arrived.

She looked left again. She'd wounded the wolf earlier with an arrow to the leg, but it hadn't slowed it down as much as she'd hoped. That meant she would have to abandon her original plan and try something different. Quickly she changed directions, sprinting back the way she came. The wolf jerked its head slightly at the movement but remained on its path, unaware of hers.

When she'd retreated back about 100 yards, she broke from the dense bank of trees, pursing her lips and giving a shrill whistle as she drew a bow from her quiver and fitted it to the string. At the sound the Vilnius turned and began bounding back toward her. Miserene used to few seconds she had to root herself, to plant her feet and tense the muscles in her abdomen as she pulled the bow taut, its point quivering right and left as she continually re-aligned it with its target.

When the wolf was twenty yards away she released. Her trajectory had not been completely accurate and the glinting silver tip failed to lodge into the wolf's eye like she'd hoped. However, it did scratch it very heavily, and the animal gave a dark howl of anguish, the lid fluttering closed. Miserene thought to fire another arrow but didn't think they shot would get off in time. Besides, the majority of the Vilnius's flesh was too thick to be pierced by an arrowhead, even one forged by the elves. Slinging the bow over a shoulder, she drew a long-handled knife from her belt and charged towards the beast, sliding under it at the last moment and dragging her knife along its belly, closing her eyes and shielding her face as she was sprayed with blood. She managed to get out from under the creature before it fell, its steaming intestines spilling onto the ground, soaking the dirt with onyx blood.

She stood, wiping her face on her sleeve as Legolas, Am, and Arian emerged. Legolas beamed, coming over at once to her side and wiping some blood from her face. The touch still alarmed, but the near 12 months she'd been here had greatly lessened her fear.

"You were brilliant, edan-nin. Very, very good."

"I have to agree," Am said, clapping her on the back. "You style is very bold; fortune will favour you for it."

Arian said nothing, and after a moment Am and Legolas both looked at her somewhat expectantly.

"That was reckless," She added at last.

Legolas gave her a withering look and her face cracked into a breath-taking smile. "but I am glad you are safe. You are a good pupil, Miserene."

"You are," Legolas agreed, his eyes dancing merrily across her face.

His eyes glimmered with pride and admiration, and he looked at Miserene as if he was seeing her in a new and blazing brilliance.

"You were much easier to teach then Arianrhod. You are not nearly as stubborn."

Arian turned away from Miserene to smirk at him.

"You were jealous of my skill from the beginning. Both of you were. I taught you more then you did me. Especially you." She poked Am lightly in the midsection, making his retract a little.  
"That's a lie!" He defended.

They both looked at Legolas, and he smiled at Miserene then shrugged.

"I'm afraid she's right."

Am frowned and Miserene laughed, which in turn made Legolas smile again. Arian and Am had continued playfully arguing as they retreated a bit and Legolas came a little bit closer to Miserene, touching her shoulder gently.

"I love the sound of your laugh. You do not do it enough."  
Leolin said nothing, only blushed. She did not say it, but before she'd met him she had little occasion to, and old habits die hard.

The argument between Arian and Am had continued to escalate, and Legolas came between his friends, throwing a strong arm over each of their shoulders.

"Where is the wine? We said we'd celebrate Miserene's first kill and now we must."  
Arian gave Am one more haughty sneer then broke away from Legolas's touch.

"I have it, it is in my bag. Let's light a fire and drink to success."

She gave Miserene a smile then walked ahead to retrieve her things. To say that they were friends was probably an overstatement, but she had warmed up considerably, and she had also helped a great deal with Miserene's lessons. Though Legolas was undoubtedly the most skilled hunter of the three, Arian was the best teacher.

"Let's get you some water to wash with," Am said to Miserene, nudging her and smiling. "I have no stomach for rich wine when the smell of blood is in the air."

Miserene laughed again, making Legolas smile.

"Amarydd! How rude you are!"

"If your friends cannot be honest with you, Miserene, no one will." He smiled and she punched him lightly in the arm.

"I'm a friend of the prince, he'll see you punished for that."

Legolas gave a merry laugh.

"Amarydd of Mirkwood, for your cruelty and your malice, I order you are to fall upon your own sword."

Am gave Legolas a mock bow. "As my prince commands."

"Lle tela? You are so childish," Arian called from the fire. "Come and drink with me. It is not right for an elleth to have to drink alone. Especially when she is as beautiful as I am."

"How modest you are!" Am said, sitting beside her and taking a proffered goblet.

"I have never had much time for modesty."

The boys laughed and Miserene smiled.

"Can you blame me," She said dramatically, tossing her long hair over each shoulder and fluttering her eyelashes.

They all laughed, and she handed a goblet to Miserene and Legolas as well.

"To Miserene," Legolas said at once, raising his cup. "May her next years with us be as good as her first."

"To Miserene!" Am cried merrily, clanking his cup against Legolas's.

Arian did not repeat the sentiment, but she raised the cup to Miserene, giving a small smile before taking a drink.

They continued on merrily for a time, laughing and smiling as the drink continued to flow. However, after some time Legolas stop talking and sat up straight, his fair face falling into a frown. Miserene neither heard nor felt any changes, but Am and Arian must have, for Am was on his feet at once, taking his quiver from Arian as she grabbed her twin knives.

"What is it?" Miserene said, touching Legolas's arm. The muscles were already coiling for a fight.

"Vilnius. More of them."

"How many more?"

Am's fingers worked quickly and gracefully as he refitted his bow. "One, maybe two."

"We'll all go, then."

"You were brilliant today, Miserene, but you need your rest. Arian and I will go. The two of you stay."  
Legolas was on his feet, he and Am conversing rapidly in elven.

"Please," Am said. "Let me do this for you."  
Legolas relented at last, nodding. "Fine. We'll expect you at the palace in no more than an hour.

Am gave the customary farewell then he and Arian took off, darting quickly through the trees and out of sight.

"You could have gone with them, if you had wanted. We are close to home, I would have been safe," Leolin pointed out.  
"I enjoy the time we spend together. I would not forfeit that just to chase after Vilnius. They will always be here, waiting to be hunted."

He smiled at her and she returned the gesture.

"Tell me that your year here has made you happy," He said at last.

He turned to study her, eyes dancing back and forth across her face. She never grew tired of looking at him, for even after all this time his elven features were so delightfully foreign to her that she was mesmerized by them, particularly his clear azure eyes. She glanced down at her tawny boots then back to him, he cheeks full of pretty colour.

"These have been the happiest months of my entire life. I am so happy I can hardly believe it."

"And some of mine as well," He said, touching her hand. "and I am much older than you."

This made Leolin smile.

"Thank you," she said, following an urge she hadn't felt in so long.

She leaned carefully closer, laying a head on his shoulder. He didn't move, having learned by now that she did not like to be touched. This gesture was more comforting than anything, and it warmed something deep in the pit of Miserene's stomach.

"It pleases me that you are so happy. When I first met you…it pained me, to see a creature as sad as you were."

"Thank you," She said at last. "for your kindness. For your friendship."  
He gave a warm laugh. "What is the point of being prince if you cannot rescue beautiful edan?"

She gave a _hmm_ and closed her eyes for a moment. Tired from her exertions, she fell into a daydream. Her mother was there, calling her name. _Rhiannon. Rhiannon._ Then it was louder more concrete, in a man's voice.

"Rhiannon! Rhiannon, where are you? Aro sent us. He misses you."

The voices were echoing from far off, but they were drifting quickly closer. Miserene jerked up, a wild fear in her eyes. Legolas reacted immediately, grabbing quiver and bow and perching at the edge of the trees just as the a hulking thug emerged.

"Come no farther, trespasser," Legolas said, and the man stopped, eyes narrowing.

"I have no business nor quarrel with you, elf. It's the girl I came for."

Legolas squared his shoulders, coming forward slightly to demonstrate that he stood a solid three inches above the man.

"She's not yours to claim."  
The man sneered. "Not mine. Arobellason's. She's bound to him and she knows it. It's time she came home. Come _Rhiannon_, Aro is waiting for you."

If Legolas thought this name was odd he did not say it.

"As prince and lord of this realm, I order you to go and never return." Miserene had never seen Legolas be so fierce. His hate seemed to singe the air.  
"I don't take orders from you." He turned to Miserene. "Don't be a fool, girl. You know what you'll get if you don't come quietly. You can hide from him forever."

"Are you deaf," Legolas said, drawing a yew arrow from his quiver and fitting it to string, slowly raising it. "I told you to go. It is the last offer I will make."

The man smirked then nodded, holding up his hands in defeat and retreating a few paces. When he was 100 or so yards way, he gave a cry and four more men, each larger than the last, entered from the bushes, knifes and bows ready. The first man shot an arrow which Legolas easily deflected. Wasting no time he advanced on the closest man and gave a quick jab with his arrow, felling him to the ground. Legolas wheeled around with the same arrow, pointing and shooting a man who was preparing the throw a knife. He fired another arrow and a man fell. Finally, he advanced on the first man, drawing his blades and placing them criss-crossed over the man's throat.

"Tell your master that Miserene is dead, and he will be too if he ever sends another man here."  
The man grit his teeth as Legolas applied more pressure, drawing blood.

"Swear you will tell him."

The man gave a cry on pain and glistening beads of scarlet skidded down his neck.

"I swear," he choked out, and Legolas relented, letting the man stand.

He clamped a hand on his throat, finding in horror that the cut Legolas had made were fairly deep.

"Go. Now."

He nodded mutely, tearing back the way he'd come. We the last of his shadow was gone, Legolas turned to Miserene. She was ghostly pale, trembling slightly.

"Miserene?"

Legolas's voice held the name tenuously, as if it now seemed false to him.

"Miserene?"

She looked up, tears in her eyes. He moved slightly to approach and she tensed up.

"Come," he said at last, drawing her back to the fire. "Sit."

She nodded and numbly followed, accepting a goblet from him as she stared into the fire. He allowed a long time to pass, an hour or more, before he spoke.

"I know it pains you," he began. "but I must know."  
"I know. I will tell you."

"Why did he call you Rhiannon?"  
"Because that's my name. My given name."  
"Then why were you called Miserene?"  
She sighed then gave a bitter laugh.

"A cruel nickname Aro gave me. He said it suited and I didn't fight him on it. I think in some ways I thought it suited, too. It caught on quickly, I am surprised those men knew my real name." She stopped to look at the ground.

"Aro must have told them."

"Why did you not tell me? Rhiannon is more fitting," He paused, voice quieter but more intense. "More worthy of your beauty."

She could tell he wanted very badly to touch her, but he restrained himself.  
"It was too painful," She said. "I almost don't see myself as Rhiannon anymore. She died when I left my parents and came here." She paused, biting her lip. She looked up at him, leaning in closer to his warmth without actually touching him.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you."  
"You must not be sorry; you've done nothing wrong. I feel only pain for what you've endured."

She leaned closer, allowing him to draw an arm around her.

"I wanted to tell you, Legolas, I just…" She trailed off, aching as the real truth seared her. "it never becomes less painful, even after all this time. I am so tired of being ashamed."

His eyes glittered as he looked down at her and she found him so handsome it was almost hard to met his gaze. He brought a hand to her face and her eyes slipped close, sending several tears down her cheeks.

"You need never be ashamed with me. Nothing could change my mind about you, edan-nin. To me, you are perfect."

She felt the stone in her belly heat up and it made her heart beat faster. In an effort to waylay the sensation, she looked away from him, eyes sinking to the dying embers.

"Miserene," He began, but she only bit her lip, more tears falling into her lap.

"_Rhiannon_," He breathed so she would look at him, and when she did, his eyes flicked down to her lips several times before he pulled her to him and kissed her.


End file.
